Last year two of my sisters completed a 10km walk to and from Wellington Stadium, in an awesome time - they are the two most competitive! This year we've decided (two of us anyway) that all four sisters will compete. Two of us - the youngest - are going to run the 10km and the older two are going to walk, hopefully not passing me in the process.
Fitting in nicely with my new year's resolutions of making more time for family I was keen as - that is until the reality of the work involved sunk in. To be fair I was doing really well running 5km three days a week with a 10km on the weekend, that is until Easter hit. Easter brought with it daylight savings and an attack of chocolate that I'm still trying to recover from. Now I realise that the race is a mere 8 weeks away and a slight panic has begun.
Being down in Christchurch for the school holidays (2 weeks of gorging other people's food) I was mighty proud of myself for continuing to run every second day not realizing that running on the flat was somewhat less effort and work than up on the hills (that's how I perceive them anyway). All that extra food only secured the fact that it was more effort to run as fast or as often. Slowly but surely I decreased how often I managed to drag myself out of bed until the three times a week runs are now down to one and the weekend run is down to 5km.
For the two weeks I've been back from holiday I've been moaning to himself that I really should stop eating so much and I really should get my a... out of bed in the morning to run. Finally last night he snapped. "Bloody do something then instead of just whinging" "Hummmp" I thought maybe, just maybe he has a point. So bright and early this morning by the light of the moon I ran a glorious 5km (yes I know it was meant to be 10 but I was so happy with even getting up that I gave myself a break). It felt great to be out again and now I just need to remember that on Monday when the alarm sounds and my a... trys to snuggle in.
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